


Sacrifices of a Hero

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Futurefic, Humor, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-24
Updated: 2003-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifices of a Hero

## Sacrifices of a Hero

by philtre

<http://members.rogers.com/philtre>

* * *

_Disclaimer_ : The following characters belong to people who are a lot richer and more powerful that I could ever hope to be 

_Author's note_ : Happy Birthday to Alison and Dana! Two wonderful ladies who never fail to amaze me with their incredible talent, their vivid imaginations, and their ceaselessly kind words. Also, many thanks to my amazingly patient betas, moss and Lady Angel. 

_Feedback_ : helps make up for the fact that I'm neither rich nor powerful 

* * *

Superman's steely frame stiffens as he scans the abandoned warehouse, trying to gauge the exact going-ons within. His x-ray vision focuses and settles on the five figures inside; two of which he would be able to recognize anywhere. 

_Sigh_. 

As a matter of fact, he often wishes that he _didn't_ recognize them quite so readily. Leaning against a dead tree trunk, he crosses his arms and tunes in his hearing. 

" _Mr_. _Chow_ , _we had an agreement_." 

Stretches his neck slightly to work out this kink that had somehow insinuated itself the night before. 

"*Well, the _agreement_ is not amenable to me any more*." 

Damn the fact that his invulnerability didn't preclude neck aches from weird sleeping positions. 

" _What then? More money?_ " 

Maybe he should talk to the Fortress, see if it has any ideas on how to work out muscle kinks. 

" _Not every problem can be solved by throwing money at it_ , *Luthor*." 

Oh no. Anonymous morally ambiguous guys are sneering. _Not-so-anonymous_ morally ambiguous guy is also sneering. 

One. Two. 

Guns? 

Sigh. 

He shoots into the building, flaring his cape as swoops around the lean frame. Predictably, (well, obviously not so predictably because he doesn't react in time) the other person he's trying to save jerks to an offensive stance mere millimetres out of his grasp. 

He is convinced that his superspeed just makes his days _endlessly_ long. 

His hand connects just half a second too late to drag the obstinate body down. Blood smears on his suit as he wraps himself around his two wards. He resists the urge to hum his boredom as he feels slight jabs of metal bouncing off his back. 

After what feels like an eternity, he swivels his head around and lifts one caustic eyebrow at the assailants and their machine guns. 

More rounds. Panicked swearing (wow, haven't heard that dialect in a while). Car screeching away. _Good riddance_. 

The man unsurprisingly jerks out of his arms immediately. 

He gently lays down the bleeding female, checking the bullet wound almost half-heartedly. The woman has this inexplicably tolerance for bodily injuries. But one day she's going to be seriously hurt and Superman is going to _laugh_. 

No, that's a lie. He won't laugh. He would probably miss the damn woman too much. 

As for the man sitting next to them, glaring at him? He won't miss him _at all_. 

No, that's a lie too. 

"Arms trading with the Chinese triad, Lex? What were you _thinking_?" 

"Not 'arms.' 'Weapons of mass destruction.'" Lex stands up, smudging the dirt on his lavender shirt with his hands. 

" _I'm sorry_. ' _Weapons of mass destruction_ ' trading with the Chinese triad, Lex? What were you thinking?!" He takes off his cape and wraps it around Mercy's body. 

"Well, it was either me or the Arabs. And _I_ don't want to drop said weapons of mass destruction on the United fucking States of America." 

"Would you just stop it?" He hands Lex the tissue that his mom insists on hiding in the pocket underneath his belt. "One day, you're going to be in trouble and I'm going to go save... _kittens_ instead." 

"I didn't ask to be saved!" 

"Well then stop trying to get yourself killed!" So what if Superman is yelling? There's no one else around to hear him losing his famous stoic demeanour. 

"Oh, go expend your saviour complex on someone else." 

"With pleasure! Have fun finding your way back to D.C.!" 

"I know how to drive." 

"I hope you also know how to miraculously fix four flat tires!" He hauls Mercy close to his body, sealing her against the environment as he takes off. 

Still brimming with frustration a whole minute later, he plops Mercy on a hospital gurney, then returns to float around the warehouse, glaring as Lex kicks his flat tires with frustration. 

Annoying, exasperating, pretentious, obnoxious, sexy, irresistible, DAMMIT! 

He zooms down and postures menacingly in front of Lex, arms crossed in front of his chest, one eyebrow raised in the manner that usually has most people cowering. Of course, most people also didn't presume they have the right to be furious when Superman leaves them stranded in the middle of nowhere. 

"You came back to lecture me some more?" 

"I came back because your fancy Armani shoes wouldn't last half a mile." 

"I would have called for a car. Or a _helicopter_." 

Superman is above snorting, but Clark Kent? Is _not_. So he snorts. _Loudly_. "With the cell phone that was shot into about eight million pieces?" 

"I was going to send up smoke signals." No one but Lex can say that with a straight face. 

"Right. Because you've been itching to revisit all those outdoor skills you acquired back when you were a boy scout." 

"Maybe I have a lighter." 

"Again. Because you're _always prepared_." 

"Maybe I smoke." 

" _Good_. Here I was afraid that you'd run out of ways to kill yourself." 

After all this time, the two of them can still have staring matches that would rival the most obstinate five-year-olds. 

"If you're so anxious for me to die, stop. Saving. Me." 

"I _wasn't_! I was trying to save your _bodyguard_. You know, the one you keep taking on your suicide missions?" 

"I _didn't_. She followed me." 

"Maybe if you stop doing _stupid_ stuff, she won't have to follow you!" 

"Is she all right?!" 

He nearly laughs. Trust Lex to show concern in such an indignantly loud tone. But he's still angry, so he snipes back, "She's fine! No thanks to you." 

Lex leans through his car window and yanks out his jacket, muttering to himself. "I told her not to follow me. Told her that a holier-than-thou pompous-ass alien would show up to give me the third degree." 

"I have _superhearing_. _I can hear you_!" 

"Well, I can hear you too! Stop shouting at me!" 

"You're obviously not _listening_ to me. Else I wouldn't have to keep to saving you." 

"Next time, I'll remember to check if what I'm doing fits in with your morally superior alien sensibilities." Lex starts stalking off, then stops abruptly. "Oh wait. Is it okay if I leave now, Superman, _sir_?" 

"Dammit, Lex." He slams Lex's body against the wall, looming over the tense frame as he demands, "Stop putting yourself in danger." 

"I was doing what was necessary." 

_God_. The man is fucking infuriating! "You can't do anything _dead_." 

"Well, I'm not dead, _am I_?" 

How does that make _any_ sense? The stupid man just pisses him off! 

And where does Lex get off fuming at the person who has saved his ass so many times that they'd lost count? 

And does Lex have to be so damn sexy _all the fucking time_?! 

Before Lex can direct another indubitably annoying barb in his direction, he leans down and plants his lips squarely on the tight line of Lex's mouth. 

So much better when forcibly quieted. 

_So_ much better when open to let his tongue in. 

Several hundred times _so_ much better when kissing him back ferociously, with long fingers jammed into his hair to hold him still as their tongues continue their battle. Each of them trying to take control of the wet, sloppy kiss; shoving back and forth until Lex nearly runs of oxygen. And still the pest insists on trying to be in charge; can't even let up for one split second. 

But dammit, he's fucking Superman! He grabs Lex and lifts him up until Lex is forced to wrap his legs around his waist for balance. One hand firmly cupping Lex's perfectly rounded ass, another tilting Lex's head so he can get the angle just right for his oral assault. 

How can such an irritating mouth be so delicious? Taste so good that he just isn't able to get enough. Stroking in again and again, coaxing out the moans that lay heavy at the back of Lex's throat. 

He wants to hear them so badly. Maybe to assure himself that Lex is really safe and well. Or maybe just because those moans are so fucking hot. 

And so _very_ fucking hot when Lex's obvious erection digs into his stomach. Rubbing so very insistently every time Lex bucks against him, back arching off the wall behind him. He's rocking against the slim body too, trying to push Lex until he forgets the concept of being in control. 

There's this sensitive spot just under Lex's right ear that never fails to make Lex groan and he's sucking hard on that very pulse point. High enough that it will take some creative make-up to cover the bruise he has every intention of leaving. 

It sends a thrill down his spine to hear Lex's laboured breath puffing into his hair. He can just imagine Lex's eyes rolling back beneath his closed eyes. 

And the voice that spends so much time fighting him is whispering dirty, naughty things. So very soft. Just for him. 

"Fuck me fuck me fuck me." 

He eases his hold on Lex's body, feeling the legs sliding down his side immediately. Clearly abusing his superspeed, he strips them both, grabbing the lube tucked in his boots for life-or-death situations that require lubrication, like when... someone's hand is stuck in a jar or... 

Oh fuck it! He lifts Lex up again, repositioning so that their cocks are rubbing together - _yes_ \- so deliciously, painting wetness all across their stomachs. With his teeth, he rips open the foil of the lube and squirts its contents into his palm. A quick couple of strokes of his cock to get it just slick enough, then his hand sneaks around Lex's body, fingering the cleft of his ass. 

"Stop. Fucking. Around." Lex tries to grind down, twisting his body in a contortion that has their chests rubbing together. Hard, hot flesh against his nipples. 

He twists two fingers into Lex, swallowing the strangled moan right out of Lex's gaping mouth. His tongue slides in, long, deep strokes that match his fingers. 

Heavily jamming his forearms on his shoulders for leverage, Lex fucks himself on the fingers. Vicious little thrust that have him stretching around his seeking fingers. 

"Oh God. _More_." 

No one else gets to see Lex this way. Completely wrapped up in a hazy trance. Naked and wanton and writhing with lust. The barely-there mewls that only he can discern. 

He shoves another finger in, stroking the little nub that has Lex bucking and begging and-- 

He pulls out quickly, shifting them so that the head of his cock slides between Lex's thighs. Hot and slick and he rams in fast, moaning despite himself because - fuck, yeah - Lex is so tight and. Blistering heat closing around him. Has to stop because it feels so damn good. 

"Come on, _Superman_. Like you fucking mean it." 

He pins Lex firmly against the wall, knees bent to get the angle just right. Pulls back before slamming back in hard. Over and over. Drowning in the dirtiest sounds of encouragement pouring from Lex's mouth. He loves that he can bring out the ferocity that Lex usually keeps under the wraps of his perfectly cut thousand-dollar suits. 

Wants to whisper how just the thought of Lex is enough him to regret his overly revealing costume, how he jerks off to Lex's voice in his head, how hotsexybeautiful Lex is. But he just chants Lex's name, thrusting deeper with each plunge. 

Lex's heels dig low on his back, cock hard between them. Mouth breathing damply into his ear. "Clark." 

He feels the change in Lex's body, the quickening of his breath, the firmer grip in his hair, the hitch in his voice as he moans, "Fuck me harder. _Please_. Clark, please." 

Lex's hand between them, jerking his cock desperately. He can feel the knuckles slide along his abs with each quick stroke. The obscene little pants that Lex isn't even trying to hide anymore. Pliant body, moving, riding, his for the taking. 

Slams in. Once. Twice. Shuddering as he pumps cum into Lex's body, as wet heat floods between them. A satisfyingly low gasp fills his ear, legs tightening hard around him with each jerk of Lex's pale, beautiful body. He wants to feel Lex flying over the edge again and again. No finesse. No control. 

Lex's forehead falls to his shoulder, breathing slowly evening out. He slips out carefully, holding the lean body up until Lex's feet find the ground. Watches as Lex rests his head back on the wall, still breathing deeply, eyes fluttered close. So beautiful that it makes _him_ feel short of breath. 

He gives Lex a moment to recover, then brushes their noses together. "Stop putting yourself in danger." 

Lex's eyes fly open, blue so clear it's almost transparent. Then closing his eyes again, Lex manages a scoff. "If that's your idea of punishment--" 

"Next time, I'm going to spank you." 

"I'll hold you to that." Lex shoves at his chest. "Where are my pants?" 

He growls at Lex rather unconvincingly, mostly because his brain decides that it's so much more enjoyable to tease Lex's mouth open with his tongue. Lex's head tilts and he strokes into the velvet-slick wetness. More addictive than chocolate; possibly more tasty, too. 

Finally, he steps back and tosses Lex's clothes at him while struggling to pull on his suit. "People are going to start missing you." 

He grins, leaning against the wall to watch Lex calmly dress as though he's in his dressing room instead of the dirty driveway of an abandoned warehouse. 

"You didn't seem too worried when you were going to leave me stranded here." 

"You knew I wasn't going to leave you." He tilts his head to get a better view of Lex's ass. "I don't think it's safe for you to be walking around on your own." 

Lex shrugs on his jacket and levels a stare in his direction. "I should get back." 

He sighs. The time to 'get back' always comes way too soon. He pulls Lex into a lingering kiss, then wraps them close together and takes off for D.C. 

They settle on the balcony gently and he lands another long, deep kiss on Lex's mouth before he gets a chance to squirm out of his arms. When Lex turns his head, he plants a wet one on the readily available cheek, then another on the tempting ear. 

"Next time you want to make a booty call, use the phone." 

Lex is still trying to wriggle out of his arms as though it's even _possible_. "Why? Did you catch up with the rest of the world and start carrying a cell phone with you?" 

He glances down at his costume, flashing Lex a salacious smile. "Not much room for that." He kisses Lex again to stop Lex from talking about the newest microscopic cell phone. "There are other ways to get hold of me." 

Lex grimaces. "I'll set up a 'Superman beam.' Let me go." 

He holds on for another thirty seconds just to annoy Lex, letting go just before the French doors swing open and a panicked Hope comes rushing out. 

"Mr. President, are you alright?" 

"He's fine." 

He flashes Hope a big smile, then waving cheerily at the scowling figure beside them, he takes off before Lex can come up with a retort. 

Not a bad day. Five disarmed robberies, three near-accidents, two attempted suicides, one very-slightly-hurt bodyguard, and one not-at-all-dead President. 

_Plus_ he got laid. 

He dips into an extravagant series of loops, and then decides to go home to catch some Leno. 

Not bad at all. 


End file.
